


rain, cards, and parentage

by invader



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:03:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21940159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invader/pseuds/invader
Summary: A rainy day forces Snufkin indoors. While playing cards with Little My and Moomin, one of Moominpappa's old friends, The Joxter, pops in. The Joxter isn't just there to visit, though—he's looking for someone.
Relationships: Joxaren | The Joxter & Muminpappan | Moominpappa, Joxaren | The Joxter/Mymlan | The Mymble, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT 2: Okay, _now_ I've fixed it. Also made a few tiny edits where I'd made some mistakes hehehe  
> EDIT: I've fixed the formatting, I'm soo sorry. It does this EVERY. TIME. Anyway, this should be a bit better...

It’d been...oh, 20 years or so? Since he’d last seen the Mymble. Ever since, she’d still been in his heart, but the seasons and years got away from him as he traveled near and far. 

In fact, he was sort of lost—but within it, he found a type of freedom. A new start. 

And now, he found himself back in the familiar valley his old friends had settled in. A pleasant surprise, really—being free to roam where he pleases is nice, but it does get lonely, and where he’d met countless people on his travels, he missed his old compatriots a fair bit.

But he visits the Mymble, first.

He takes off his hat before he knocks, as a show of respect for his old love.

The door opens to a tall Mymble, children attached to each hip and latched onto her legs, and still every bit as remarkable as he first laid eyes on her.

“Oh, my–Joxter, is that you?” She asks in delight, her already smiling face brightening even more.  
“No, it’s Hodgkins,” He jests. “Dear Mymble, it’s been awhile.”  
Her eyes crinkle, her smile softening into something warmer.   
“Well, do come in!” She says, opening the door wider for him. He nods, and walks into the lopsided (but well-loved) home.

They talk of her children and his travels, catching up with each other a fair bit. The Joxter isn’t much of a sharer, nor much a storyteller, but he finds he’s comfortable telling the Mymble things.

“Oh, dear me, I almost forgot–I’m doing that quite often these days, I’m afraid–how is the boy?” She asks innocently. The Joxter blinks at her.  
“Boy? What boy?” He asks, brow furrowed in confusion.  
“The boy I sent you. Our boy.” The Mymble says expectantly.  
The Joxter’s face twists with confusion.  
“Dear Mymble, What on Earth are you talking about? We never had a boy.” He says, believing her mistaken.  
“But I...no, I’m certain of it. I may be forgetful, but I _do_ remember my children, Joxter.” The Mymble says rather severely, frowning. "I sent him right to you, in fact!"

The Joxter stares at her, his face going blank. Then, he slowly frowns.  
“We...we had a child?” He asks quietly. The way he says it, it’s more of a statement.  
“Yes, dear, I’ve said that.” The Mymble says, a touch of softness now in her voice.  
The Joxter leans over where he’s sitting, his elbows on his knees, his hand going over his mouth as he looks at the carpet and thinks.  
“Where...what happened to him, if I never found him?” He asks suddenly, sitting up with rather large eyes.  
“I...I don’t know. Oh goodness me…” The Mymble says, looking stricken.  
“Mymble, where did you send him?” The Joxter asks.   
“I–I sent him to where you were staying, I never thought...I put him in a basket and sent him across the river to you!”

There’s a lot of scrambling, then, as the Joxter jumps up and over the sofa and runs off to find the river the Mymble spoke of, across from the hut Hodgkins had been staying in temporarily, all those years ago. The Mymble, meanwhile, dialed the telephone, shooing away her children to go play while she made some calls.

* * *

Snufkin is, for once, inside Moominhouse as he escapes from the rain. It had started quite suddenly, and he’d gotten rather soaked on his way back to his tent– which had been blown over in the storm. 

As it was, Snufkin was sitting in the living room in the house, Moominmama having gently, stubbornly forced him into accepting a cup of tea and a large towel while his clothes dried on the curtain rod. 

He was kept company with Moomintroll and Little My, his anxiety at being a burden to the house easing with the company of his friends. 

Well, it had been. There’s suddenly a loud ring-ing-ing-ing! Sound that startles him, causing him to jump and muss their card game up.   
“Nice.” Says Little My flatly, hopping down from her chair to retrieve the cards.  
“I-I’m sorry, I...what is that sound?” Snufkin says.   
“Huh? That’s the phone, Snuf. You know, the telephone?”  
“Oh! Yes, I know what that is. You don’t get calls very often, do you?” He asks.   
“No, not really.”

Moominmama picks up the phone, and immediately, frantic speaking bursts from the other side.  
_“Oh, dear Moominmama, I—We—oh dear, the boy—we lost our boy, Moominmama, have you—”_  
“Mymble? Calm down, dear. Take a breath.” Moominmama soothes, “Now, whatever is the matter?”

* * *

The Joxter's search of the area proves fruitless. There's one place he hasn't checked, though—Moominhouse. He hasn't been by since Moomin's (Well, Moomin _pappa,_ now) son had been born. So he heads for the tall, blue, red-roofed Moominhouse.

At the front door, Joxter takes a breath and then places his hand on the doorknob.

“Moomin,” The Joxter bursts into the house without knocking.   
Moominpappa raises his eyebrows, mouth opening in surprise.  
“Well, Joxter! Is that you? How long has it been—“  
“I’ve no time for pleasantries. I’ve a son, I’m looking for him...do you know of any lost children, anyone that’s a cross between…”

And the Joxter’s eyes fall on Snufkin, and he knows instantly.

“What’s your name, boy?” He asks.   
Snufkin frowns a little. “I’m Snufkin.” He answers, withdrawing in the face of someone unfamiliar.   
He isn’t quite sure what else to say, for “Can I help you?” would be an invitation for the unfamiliar man, and Snufkin isn’t particularly interested, nor does he want to have anything to do with him.  
“Snufkin.” The man mutters to himself. “I see.”  
“This is a strange question, but do you have any parentage you’re aware of? Maybe you know someone by the name of Hodgkins?” the Joxter asks, hands crumpling his hat anxiously.  
Snufkin physically reels back, his frown pulling his eyebrows into an apprehensive furrow.   
“I don’t see how that is any of your business, good sir.” Snufkin says tersely.

( _Quite like his Mother, bless her,_ the Joxter thinks.)

How to approach such a subject? Snufkin appears increasingly skittish, glancing around the room for an escape. Would it further scare him to just come out and say “hey, I think you’re my son, do you know if you were left on a doorstep nearly 20 years ago”?

Instead, the Joxter grabs Moominpappa’s hand and tugs him out onto the porch, shutting the door behind them without a word.

“My word! What’s gotten into you?” Moominpappa asks, taking his hand back and adjusting his hat, which fell sideways in the Joxter’s hurry.  
“It’s–” the Joxter freezes.

For it suddenly hits him that he’s a father, and inside is his son.

“I’m—I’m a _Father_ , Moomin.” He manages. Moominpappa looks unimpressed, and raises his eyebrows.  
“Yes...what about it?” He says.  
“What do you mean? I—that’s my _boy_ in there, I-I don’t–“  
“Wait.” Moominpappa says. “You act like...oh dear. Oh my. You had no idea, did you?”   
Joxter shakes his head, his tail twitching behind him.  
“Oh. Goodness...I thought–I mean, I _knew_ when I met him that...what _happened?_ ” Moominpappa says, looking rather stricken.

Joxter explains to him Snufkin being sent down the river by the Mymble, how she’d intended for Joxter to receive and raise him and how he’d never known until now.  
“Goodness.” Moominpappa takes off his hat and rubs at his eyes. “How are you doing, then? This is a lot, especially for you, I’d imagine.”   
“I...am not sure.” Joxter says slowly, his tail stilling. “Yes. I don’t know.” 

“Dear me,” Moominpappa says. “Come in, we’ll get this sorted out over some tea. Yes.”

Re-entering the house, the children stare at the Joxter, at how Moominpappa guides him into the kitchen.   
“Mama, dear, would you make some tea?”  
“Mama’s on the phone, Papa.” Moomintroll chimes in.  
“Oh, alright. Well, I can certainly manage.” Moominpappa says, then sets about the kitchen, filling up the kettle and starting it on the stove.  
“Now, where do we keep those blasted leaves…” He mutters, searching the cupboards.

Snufkin looks out the window. It’s still raining, though not as much...the biggest problem was the wind, now.  
Plus his clothes weren’t dry, yet.  
He sighs. He’d very much like to return to the respite of his tent, but it appears he’ll be stuck here for another while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so apprently i managed to completely wipe a scene from last chapter while editing, meaning i had to rewrite the scene from scratch. I tried to get it to fit back into the chapter, but i couldnt get it to fit :(! so its in here :)  
> anyway, enjoy~

Something was going on, Little My thought. A strange man bursts in out of the blue—and that’s curious by itself, but then to have a _stranger_ ask you if you have parents? Something had to be going on.   
She can sense these things, you know. After all, she is Little My.

“Hey. Don’t you think that was weird?” She whispers, just low enough that it doesn’t catch the ears of anyone outside of their little circle..  
“Well, yeah…” Moomintroll agrees, “Kinda...”

Little My starts to advance on Snufkin, already poised to ask her questions, but Snufkin is faster.

“Before you ask, Little My,” Snufkin starts, already back to shuffling their deck, “ _No,_ I _don’t_ know that man, and I have no idea why he’d ask me something like that. Can we please just get back to the game?”

Little My and Moomintroll exchange glances—and while Moomintroll’s is one of concern, Little My’s holds only annoyance.   
“Fine. Let’s play _Bullshit_.” Little My says, watching for a reaction from Snufkin.  
“Little My!” Moomintroll scolds.

Unfortunately for Little My, Snufkin appears unfazed.   
“That is a fun game...but such coarse language won’t do, so how about we use a substitute word?” Snufkin offers instead.  
“Oh, oh! How about _‘apple’_?” Moomintroll says, his hand in the air as if they were in a classroom.  
“Or _‘bees’_?” Snufkin suggests. “Or something a little more complicated, like _‘brontosaurus’_?”  
“How about _‘fuck’_?” Little My chimes in. Moomintroll shoots her a scolding look.  
“You’re right, we should play Old Maid again. Moomintroll, why don’t you go first this time?” Snufkin says, flat out ignoring Little My, who rolls her eyes.

Back over at the telephone, Moominmamma has started to make some headway.

“Let me make sure I have everything right...17 years ago, you sent your child down the river to Hodgkins’ cabin, so Joxter could take him. Except...he never met him.” Moominmamma says into the phone.  
“ _Yes, Moominmamma, dear. He had those same eyes that called for nature! I couldn’t just keep him away from his heart’s calling...” The Mymble frets, “How could I have been so foolish?_ ”  
“Now, now, Mymble...you did what you thought was best for your baby, and that’s all a Mother can do. You mustn’t blame yourself.” Moominmamma soothes. “Unfortunately, I was so busy with Moomintroll I can’t remember if I ever saw a child coming down the river. I’m so sorry, dear.”

The Mymble must have taken the phone away from her face, as all Mamma can hear is faint, muffled, staticky sobs.

“ _I don’t know what to do, Moominmamma!_ ” She cries, back at full volume. “ _How will we ever find him? What if he’s...what if he drowned?_ ”  
“If he’s...drowned...then...then we’ll have a funeral. We’ll make it perfect, and I’m sure the children would be more than willing to help. Then you can grieve him, properly. But we don’t know that he has, and we mustn’t think of him as such. What do you remember about him? What did you put in the basket with him? Think, Mymble, dear…”

* * *

The Joxter isn’t the most talkative fellow in general, but ever since Moominpappa had sat him down in the kitchen and put a mug of tea in front of him, he hadn’t said a single word.

“What are you thinking about, old friend?” Moominpappa prods.  
The Joxter stares into his tea, not doing anything to acknowledge he’d heard Moominpappa speak.  
“Right. Okay. Just ignore me, will you…” Moominpappa mutters, looking away and sipping from his own mug. 

Suddenly, The Joxter stands up, knocking his mug over in the process.  
“I’ve had a thought.” He says. His eyes are big again, as they are when he has a vision. “Introduce me to him.”  
“I—wh— _me?_ ” Moominpappa asks, confused. “Why?”  
“You know him. He trusts you. He’s no reason to trust a tramp like me, not at all...but he’ll listen to _you_.” Joxter answers.

Moominpappa thinks this over. As sneaky as it feels...he’s right. At least, he _hopes_ he's right.

“...You’re right. I can’t imagine how startled the children are, now that I think about it...in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Little My’s already found us out.”   
“All the more reason!”  
“Right. Well then, are you ready?” Moominpappa asks, standing up from the table (and, in his similar newfound eagerness, also manages to knock _his_ mug over.)

Just before they head for the door, however, Moominamamma comes in.  
“Hello, dear—oh my, Joxter, is that you?” She unknowingly parrots. “I’ve just heard from Mymble, I’m so sorry you’ve lost your boy. We’ll do anything we can to help, isn’t that right dear?”   
“Yes, of course! In fact, we’re going to speak to him now.” Moominpappa says.  
“You’ve already found him? How wonderful! We must have a celebration! But... where is he?” She asks.  
“What do you mean? You know Snufkin, Mamma.” Moominpappa says. “He’s just in the living room.” 

Moominmamma stops. Then, she looks over the Joxter very carefully.  
“Oh my. You’re right, how could I not have noticed...? Well, you had better get in there, then. I’ll let Mymble know right away.” She says, but she doesn’t move out of their way quite yet.  
“...If he leaves, you mustn’t run after him. He’s very independent, you see, if he’s feeling suffocated…” She says.  
Joxter turns this over in his head for a moment. Quite like his Father, then, it seemed.  
Then, Moominmamma steps out of the way, and Moominpappa is pushing him into the other room. 

* * *

Two of three heads look up from their cards game.   
“Children! I have somebody I’d like to introduce you to—properly, this time.” Moominpappa starts, patting The Joxter’s back before they stop at the card table.  
“This is The Joxter. Surely, you remember him from my memoirs!”   
Little My immediately stands in her chair and takes a good look over the stranger—The Joxter, rather. Her eyes are still narrowed when she speaks.  
“How do you do.” It’s distrusting—and not a question—but Joxter doesn’t think anything of it.   
“Papa, you’ve never mentioned anything about a _Joxter_ before.” Moomintroll says. Then he looks back to The Joxter, offering his hand to shake. “I’m Moomintroll. It’s nice to meet you Mr. Joxter!” 

The Joxter doesn’t pay much mind to either of them. Not for lack of interest—he’s simply preoccupied.   
...Well, a little from lack of interest.

“And you’re Snufkin.” He says, looking at the aforementioned mumrik directly.  
Snufkin glances at him, frowning.  
“I did say that.” He says, setting his cards down on the table. Among his cards was the Joker—the Old Maid.

The Joxter silently watches Snufkin, obviously making the young mumrik increasingly uncomfortable.

Moominpappa interrupts before it gets too unbearable.  
“Yes, okay! The _reason_ ,” Moominpappa emphasizes, looking pointedly at Joxter, “I’ve introduced you is because...well, you see, The Joxter here is your—“

The door bursts open again, and this time it’s the Mymble.

“Mama? What are you doing here?” Little My asks. “Are the siblings alright?”  
“Oh, My! Yes, of course, dear, your siblings are quite occupied with the cat. Your sister is keeping an eye on them while I’m gone. I’m here for…” And her eyes land on Snufkin, and she gasps before she bursts into tears.   
“What is—?!” Is all Snufkin manages to say, before he’s smothered by the Mymble and her big red coat.  
“Oh, _my boy!_ I’m so _sorry,_ I was such a fool, how could I ever have let you go?!” She cries, holding him in a death grip. When she relents, she fusses over him as he catches his breath—fur coats are hard to breathe through, after all.

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?!” Snufkin finally demands, embarrassed and confused.   
Mymble looks at Joxter and Moominpappa. “You haven’t told him, have you.”   
“Believe it or not, you came in just as I was getting to it…” Moominpappa sighs.   
The Mymble lets go of Snufkin, and backs up to give him some space. She takes Joxter’s hand as she stops next to him.  
“We’re your parents, darling.” She says simply.

Snufkin stares at them.

Then he walks to the curtain rod, and grabs his still-not-quite-dry hat and coat before turning on his heel and briskly walking to the door.  
“See you later, Moomintroll,” is all he says before he closes the door behind him.

The room is quiet.

“We’ve scared him off, haven’t we?” The Joxter asks, rather mournfully. The Mymble squeezes his hand, but her expression is just as sad.

Moomintroll considers going after him, but decides not to. He can’t imagine how Snufkin is feeling, and after being smothered by a total stranger (who is, apparently, his Mother, who he knows Snufkin has never known) probably wants to be alone.  
Little My, on the other hand, has had an epiphany.   
“Wait.” She says, “I think I remember him…he was smaller than I was! Does this mean Snufkin is my little brother?!”

At least someone is having fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have. a Few hcs abt snufkin vs the rest of the mymbles children
> 
> also moominmamma is a saint and shes trying so hard to not go off  
> "take a deep breath mamma. in. and out. at least hes grown by now"
> 
> thank u for not point out any inconsistencies im just vibing w this fic so it doesnt have my usual combing over  
> ok see u next chapter :)

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas!!! part 2 coming soonish, ive got a bit on my plate rn  
> but ive had this done for awhile so i figured why not post it!!  
> <3


End file.
